Big city K-9 cop Ronan McGuire loves women, loves his dog, loves his job – but when old flame Maddy Morgan moves into his jurisdiction, he can’t think about anyone else.

Ronan knows she’s way out of his league, but he’s determined to help Maddy live life to the fullest.

Maddy has immersed herself in work and swiftly made a name for herself in the hot New York City real estate market. She’s looking for safety, not love, but Ronan McGuire is as persistent as he is sexy, and his crooked smile is hard to resist. But all other concerns are wiped away when Maddy goes missing and Ronan and his bloodhound K-9 partner are tasked with finding her and bringing her home.

The boy had been missing for twelve hours, and Ronan McGuire knew better than anyone that if they didn’t find the kid soon, the search could end in the worst possible way. It had been an unusually cold November, and when little David Newhart wandered away from his parents this morning in the park, he hadn’t been wearing a coat. The sun had gone down hours ago, and the temperature was close to freezing.

Ronan’s partner grew increasingly agitated as they climbed the steep incline of the hill near Turtle Pond, and hope fired brightly in Ronan’s chest. He knew the dog’s signals and could read him better than he could most people.

The boy was close.

Bowser whined loudly and tugged harder on the long leash, and Ronan swore under his breath. The enormous bloodhound had the best nose in the tristate area. Once he detected a scent, he rarely—if ever—failed to find what he was looking for. He tilted his snout to the air before spearing it back to the ground and turning left. Bowser’s lanky brown-and-black-furred body quivered with excitement, the way it did whenever the trail grew stronger.

The scent article they’d given Bowser, the missing boy’s hat, had given him a solid lead to follow, but this was more an art than a science. David had been missing for hours, and the gusty winds of late November had been blowing hard, making the search-and-rescue job that much more difficult. Well, for Ronan, it was a job. For Bowser, it was more like playing a big game of hide-and-seek. And there was nothing his dog loved more than finding what he was looking for.

Bowser kept his nose to the ground and trotted to the left toward a long stone wall. He followed the scent through the brush and dried leaves in an almost sideways direction along a wooded section of Central Park. Bowser was one of the most talented bloodhounds on the force and could detect scents up to a week old if he had to.

Tension settled in Ronan’s shoulders, and his muscles bunched as he wrapped the leather lead tighter around his hand. He scanned the area ahead, and a tickle of panic glimmered in his chest as it sometimes did when he was searching for a missing kid. Faint memories from years ago bubbled to the surface. He knew exactly how this little boy was feeling. Alone. Terrified. Cold.

“David?” Ronan shouted. “I’m Officer Ronan McGuire with the NYPD. Your mom and dad are worried about you. David, can you hear me?”

The wind whistling by his ears was the only answer. The glimmer of hope began to fade right before Bowser whimpered and made a sudden turn to the right, his long, sword-like tail bouncing wildly as he picked up the pace. A bitter gust of wind whisked through the woods, sending a chill up Ronan’s spine. Shit. Please let the kid be okay. Bowser dodged around a massive elm tree, and Ronan ran around behind him.

“David!”

That was when he spotted a dark lump…and it moved. Ronan’s heart thundered in his chest. He shone his flashlight over the area, and the breath rushed from his lungs. Got him. David was curled up in a ball in a pile of leaves at the base of the tree. Bowser barked and went right over, sniffing and licking at the boy before sitting down beside him protectively.

“I gotcha, David.” Ronan squatted down and took off his coat before quickly wrapping it around the kid. “Bowser and I are gonna get you back to your mom and dad. They’re worried sick about you.”

“I’m cold.”

“I know, pal, but you’re safe now. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

He started rubbing the boy’s arms, but Bowser moved in and lay down right next to the kid, practically on top of him. David giggled through his sniffles and swiped at his eyes before snuggling up to the dog. Bowser was panting heavily, his long, pink tongue dangling from the side of his open mouth. The damn dog looked like he was smiling.

“Good boy.” Ronan repeated the phrase a few times, scratched Bowser’s ears, and gave him the praise he expected. “Nice job, buddy.”

Bowser licked his hand quickly, as though returning the kudos. Ronan crouched next to his panting K-9 and radioed for the other officers in the area.

Ronan loved his job, especially when it had a happy ending.

CHAPTER 1

“I told you that I’d be there, and I meant it.” Maddy Morgan pressed the iPhone harder against her ear. She was attempting to block out the sounds beyond her office door while her best friend pestered her to within an inch of her life. “I’m your maid of honor, for heaven’s sake. What? You think I’m gonna bail after everything you and Gavin have been through? Hell no!”

“Okay, well, you can’t blame me for double-checking, can you?” Jordan hesitated, her voice concerned. “We’ve hardly spoken. I mean, you haven’t been home since… It’s been over a year and…”

Maddy stared out the window that overlooked the hustle and bustle of Manhattan and sucked in a deep breath, her friend’s unfinished thought hanging in the air. She nibbled her lower lip and fought the sudden, unexpected swell of emotion. It had been fifteen months since Rick died and a full year since she had been back to the town she’d always called home.

At least, she had until recently.

“I know,” Maddy said quietly.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and refused to cry. She’d cried enough at Rick’s funeral and during the weeks following. No more tears. If Rick were here, he would tell her to put on her big girl panties and get on with life.

“I’m not missing your wedding,” she said firmly. “Jeez, Jordan. You and Gavin have waited sixteen years to finally get hitched. Hell, you two would have gotten married last Christmas if it weren’t for me.”

“That’s not true,” Jordan said firmly.

“Bull.” Maddy laughed.

“Okay, well, it wasn’t the only reason.” Jordan replied. “Gavin’s parents wanted to throw us a huge Christmas wedding, and four months wouldn’t have been enough time to pull it all together. Deciding to wait a year has been a win-win. My future mother-in-law had plenty of time to do her thing, and we all had time to properly grieve for Rick. But I’m still worried about you…”

“I’m fine, Jordan, and I promise… I’m gonna be there to witness your dream coming true.”

“Okay, but—”

“No buts.”

“Yo, Maddy.” The increasingly irritating voice of Chris Drummond shot into the room as he barged in. “That blond, the Brenda chick—are you gonna to take her out to an open house this weekend, or should I? And what about those newlyweds? I know you’ve been slammed. I could take them out to see the new listings, if you want.”

“Hang on, Jordan,” Maddy said tightly.

She covered the phone with her hand and leveled an irritated gaze at her colleague. She knew that Terrence, the owner of the realty agency, had hired Drummond because he had an amazing reputation for selling and one of the best portfolios in the business, but he was a letch. A letch that thought anyone with boobs wanted him. Maddy had learned a long time ago that big talent usually meant even bigger egos.

Unfortunately, this talent was also turning out to be an asshole. She had already reported him once to Terrence for inappropriate advances on the young women in the office. Big talent or not, he was making her tired of him and his misogynistic bullshit. And lately, there had been attempts to steal her clients.

“Did you happen to notice that my door was closed?”

“Yeah.” He leaned in the doorway with his usual casual arrogance. Tall, slim, well dressed, and always perfectly coiffed, he was considered good-looking by most. But the air of entitlement he wore like a cloak was a turnoff as far as Maddy was concerned. Besides, she would never date a colleague.

“I’m on a call.”

“Right.” He jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “Anyway, should I take that Brenda chick out and, uh, show her the ropes? We could take the newlyweds, the, uh…”

The smarmy smile on his face gave Maddy pause. He’d been hitting on the assistants, who were savvy New Yorkers and more than capable of handling themselves, but now he was moving on to the young real estate agent. Brenda was a recent college grad from the Midwest. She was pretty, smart, and naive.

A prime target for a guy like Drummond.

“No,” Maddy said firmly. “Terrence asked me to handle her training. Thank you, and please close the door on your way out.”

His smile faded, and a hard, cold look settled in his eyes. Maddy had moved up the ranks quickly since joining Cosmopolitan Realty House, and her rise hadn’t gone unnoticed by Drummond. He hated not being number one, but she suspected that being second to a woman was a bigger insult.

“Sure thing,” he murmured.

Drummond left but neglected to shut the door. Maddy crossed the room, pausing only to tell Sharon, her assistant, to hold her other calls before she closed her door once more.

“Sorry about that, Jordan.” She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window and grimaced before running one hand through her unruly brown curls. “I’m coming into town a week before the wedding so I can help you with whatever you need. Y’know, all that bridesmaid stuff. I mean, I’m not a real girlie girl, but it’ll be fun to hang out. And tell Gavin he better not try to horn in on our girls’ night out. It might only be the two of us, but there’s a no-boys-allowed rule in effect for that event.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Jordan said through a chuckle. “All four of his brothers are coming in early as well. From what I hear, Ronan has quite the bachelor party planned. Speaking of Ronan, why don’t you two ride back to Old Brookfield together? I mean, you’re both in the city, and he is the best man.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I’ll take my own car, thank you very much. I’m staying at the Old Brookfield Inn, and Ronan will be at his parents’ house, obviously.” Maddy’s eyes narrowed, and the smile on her face grew. “Your matchmaking scheme hasn’t worked, Jordan. But I’ll give you and Gavin an A for effort.”

“What are you talking about?” Jordan asked with feigned innocence. “When you moved to the city last year, Gavin merely suggested that Ronan should look out for you. He’s been a cop there for over a decade. Besides, I heard through the McGuire brother grapevine that you two have been going running on the weekends, so Ronan can’t be all bad.”

Nope. –That was half the problem. He was exactly the right kind of bad.

They had gone jogging in Central Park almost every weekend for the past several months, but Maddy had made it clear from the start: she wasn’t interested in dating. Not him, nor anyone else. Friends? Sure. Romance? No way.

Her heart couldn’t take another turn through the shredder. Dating a cop, just because he also happened to be one of the sexiest men God ever put on this earth, would not be a smart move.

Besides, Ronan had a reputation as a total ladies’ man.

Not that she could blame any woman for taking a ride on that handsome train. When he flashed that lopsided grin and his bluish-green eyes crinkled at the corners, it took superwoman strength for Maddy not to drop her panties. He was a combination of mischievous little boy and irresistible alpha male—a deadly pairing.

Ronan McGuire was wickedly sexy. The worst part was that he knew it.

“Well, yeah,” Maddy said quickly. She sat at her desk and spun the chair to face the window so she could see the rest of the world. Living and working in this city made her feel like a rat in a cage sometimes. “Running around, getting sweaty, and panting in the cold is not exactly dating, Jordan.”

“Sweaty and panting sounds promising,” Jordan teased.

Maddy’s face flushed. “That’s not what I meant.” She quickly added, “I was talking about Bowser.”

“Sure,” her friend said slowly. “Sure you were.”

“You know Ronan doesn’t go anywhere without that dog. Speaking of which, are you prepared to have a drooling animal at your wedding?”

“Oh fine, change the subject.” Jordan sighed. “Any chance I can talk you into coming for Thanksgiving?”

“Sorry, babe. I’m slammed.”

“Then how about staying for Christmas? The wedding is on the twenty-third. Come on. Please? The girls would love it,” she said, referring to her two adorable daughters. “You’re going to be here for a week, so what’s a couple more days? You said they were closing your office between Christmas and New Year’s anyway.”

Maddy had never been part of big family holidays, and that had been fine with her, but the pleading tone in Jordan’s voice was starting to make her rethink her decision.

“You know the holidays were never a big deal for me, Jordan. My mom hated celebrating them after my dad died, and then once she was gone, I didn’t really want to. And besides,” she added quickly, “Rick and I never even got a tree or anything. He was always working, and so was I.”

“I know, but I hate to think of you alone in that big city on Christmas. Again. It’s bad enough you wouldn’t come last year. Please think about it?”

“I’m hosting a huge New Year’s Eve party for my clients—it’s at my apartment.”

“You could leave on the twenty-sixth and still be back in plenty of time to be party ready,” Jordan persisted. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to call bullshit on that excuse. You and I both know your assistant already has the whole shindig tied up and ready to go.”

Jordan was right. The party was a lame reason not to spend the holiday with them. Besides, it was all being catered, and the invitations had been sent. What did Maddy really have to do other than show up and schmooze? And what was here for her on Christmas? She didn’t even have a cat or a fish to feed.

Ugh. She felt more pathetic by the second.

“Okay,” Maddy said with a dramatic sigh. “I’ll think about it. Jeez, when did you become such a nudge?”

“Since I had two children and learned that being a nudge can sometimes be quite effective.”

A knock on Maddy’s door sent a flicker of irritation up her back. But when she spun around, Sharon’s tearstained face stopped her cold.

“Girl, I have to go.” A knot of dread curled in her gut. “I’ll see you in a few weeks. Give Gracie and Lilly a kiss from Aunt Maddy.”

Maddy hit End and set the phone on her desk. Her legs felt like Jell-O as she rose to her feet. Sharon was still weeping while she closed the door behind her, and before it shut, Maddy saw two of the other agents in the office crying.

“Sharon, what is it?”

“Th-they found her.”

“Who?” Maddy asked shakily, her fingertips pressing into the mahogany desk. But she knew the answer before Sharon said it.

“Lucille Bowman.” The young woman swiped at her eyes and let out a shuddering sob. “She’s dead.”

***

A haunting rendition of “Amazing Grace” spilled from the organ filling the small church, and Maddy wiped the tears from her eyes. The last time she’d heard this song had been at Rick’s funeral. A new surge of sadness and grief welled up inside as the pallbearers carried Lucille’s casket silently toward the open double doors.

The sounds of the city spilled in, buzzing beneath the mournful melody—a bitter reminder of how cruel life was. The world outside went on as though nothing had happened. While Lucille’s death had barely been noted on the evening news, it was far more personal for Maddy and her coworkers. According to police, the last call Lucille had made was to her husband, saying she was going to meet a client at an open house. The client had called the office later that day to say Lucille had never arrived.

Lucille’s husband kept his vacant gaze fixed to the ground. He lumbered silently behind his late wife’s casket, seemingly unaware of anyone or anything around him. Grief and shock clung to him like an invisible shroud. Maddy knew that feeling all too well.

He and Lucille didn’t have any children and, according to a few of the other realtors, had been married only a couple of years. People said that as though it would somehow make his loss less horrible. Did the amount of time he and Lucille had been together even matter? One year or ten, a loss was a loss.

The remaining mourners filed out, all of them in various states of grief, but Maddy remained quietly in the back row. She had spoken with Lucille only a few times, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to pay her respects—but without overstepping her bounds. The little church in Old Brookfield had been full for Rick’s funeral. Even though she couldn’t possibly have said who was there and who wasn’t, the presence of every individual was a comfort to her. The least she could do was offer the same to Lucille’s husband.

After everyone had left, Maddy rose to her feet and slipped out of the pew. She could still go to the burial and reception afterward. The invitation had been extended to everyone at the end of the service. But those events felt like they were for close friends and family, and Maddy didn’t qualify for either role. No, it was probably best if she dragged her butt back to work. After all, it wasn’t like she had anyone waiting for her back at her apartment.

Maddy tugged her black wool coat closed and tied the sash, bracing herself for the brisk air that awaited her outside. As she passed, she gave a polite smile and nod to one of the ministers rearranging some pamphlets in the vestibule.

Life went on, it would seem, even for the clergy.

When Maddy pushed open the heavy wooden door, a gust of brisk November wind rushed over her, making her suck in a sharp breath. Why did this city seem cruel and cold at every turn? The stubborn wind had pulled several strands of her curly hair free from her lame attempt at an updo. She pushed her unruly locks from her eyes and started down the stone steps, prepared to go back to her desk and stare at the computer. She had cleared her calendar today, but returning to an empty apartment was simply too depressing an option. At least at the office, she’d have the illusion of not being alone.

Maddy had made up her mind to hail a cab by the time she reached the sidewalk, but when she saw who was waiting for her, she stopped short.

Not much surprised her in Manhattan anymore—she’d seen just about everything in her year living here, including a woman walking a ferret on a leash, a naked homeless guy streaking down Park Avenue, and an old man strolling through Central Park with a squawking parrot on his shoulder.

But she never expected to find this.

Standing beside a lamppost, brimming with confidence and with his K-9 partner by his side, was Ronan McGuire. Dressed in his dark-blue NYPD uniform, he looked every bit the ruggedly handsome hero that he was. His cap obscured her view of his thick ebony hair, but those pale bluish-green eyes peered at her from beneath a furrowed brow. His tall, broad-shouldered frame was covered from head to toe against the bitter air, and the bulletproof vest he wore only served to accentuate his size.

How did Ronan manage to look devastatingly gorgeous in a standard-issue uniform? She’d seen plenty of other cops in this city, but not one of them hummed with masculine sexuality the way Ronan did. He reeked of calm control and steely strength. On the surface, he was cool and steady, but beneath was a distinctly powerful energy. She knew, without a doubt, that he could burst into action in a split second.

The guys brushing past her on Park Avenue, the ones dressed in thousand-dollar suits, didn’t look half as sexy as Ronan did in his uniform.

I bet he looks pretty good out of it too.

Bowser, an enormous bloodhound who seemed to delight in startling Maddy whenever possible, barked loudly. She flinched as Ronan’s constant companion interrupted her naughty train of thought, and her face heated. How long had she been standing there staring at him? Based on the slight smirk curving Ronan’s lips, it was longer than she’d like to admit.

“Hey,” Maddy said, trying to collect herself. She crossed the sidewalk to greet Ronan but kept a healthy distance from the two of them. “What are you doing here? Did you just happen to be in the neighborhood? Because if I’m not mistaken, this isn’t your usual haunting ground.”

“This is most definitely not my neighborhood. Too rich for my blood,” Ronan scoffed. He gathered Bowser’s leash, wrapping it around his hand, before he pushed himself off the post and inched closer. “Our shift starts in a couple of hours. We came to check on you.”

Her gaze flicked briefly to Bowser. He was staring at her as usual. She had never met an animal as tuned in to people as he was. But then, he was a search-and-rescue K-9, so tuning in was part of his job.

“Me?” Maddy stilled. “I’m fine, really,” she said in a shakier voice than she expected.

Even she didn’t believe it. Nope. Not okay.

“Your friend was murdered, and you just attended her funeral.” Ronan leaned in and lowered his voice. “Don’t give me that. There’s not a damn fine thing about this whole crappy situation.”

Something in Maddy’s chest crumbled a little at the tenderness in his voice. How long had it been since someone had expressed concern for her well-being? It felt like forever. Still, she suspected there was more to it than that.

“You’ve seen things like this before,” Maddy whispered. “Does it ever get any easier?”

“No,” he said quietly. Bowser whined and licked Ronan’s hand in a sweet, almost reassuring gesture. “Sucks every time. Nothing easy about it.”

Ronan and Bowser had been part of searches that ended badly. He’d obviously been affected by those experiences, and knowing that he’d remained unjaded by the cruelty of his job somehow made him even more attractive.

Bowser, who was sitting dutifully at Ronan’s feet, let out a low whine and snuffled loudly. Sometimes Maddy was convinced that dog was more human than half the people in this city.

“No…I don’t imagine there would be.” Maddy adjusted the purse slung over her shoulder, trying to squash a fresh swell of emotion. She pulled her leather gloves from her pocket and tugged them on while avoiding Ronan’s inquisitive stare. “I mean, it’s sad. It’s beyond sad, the whole situation is horrible, but—”

“What are you doing now?” he asked abruptly. “Everyone else is gone. Since you’re still here, I’m figuring that you opted not to go on to the burial. And knowing you, that means you’re going back to work.”

Maddy opened her mouth to argue with him but snapped it shut. He’d hit the nail on the head. Ronan’s lopsided grin widened.

“I-I have work to do,” she sputtered.

“Really?” He tilted his head and narrowed those beautiful eyes. They looked more blue today than green.

“Yes, really.”

“Because if I had to guess, I’d say you were gonna go back to that fancy office of yours and stare at your computer or surf the Internet. Maybe play some solitaire or ?”

Why, oh why, does he have to be so damn observant?

Maddy wasn’t sure if it was comforting or irritating to have someone see her so clearly. Maybe it was both? She had started to get used to the anonymity of this city, the sense of disconnection from other people. She’d left Old Brookfield to give herself distance from Rick’s memory and the well-meaning but meddlesome members of her small community.

No one here knew her past, or even cared enough to ask. Her life in Manhattan was strictly business, which made her feel safely cocooned, sheltered from painful memories. She remained insulated from having to dig past surface pleasantries. Ronan wasn’t like that. He was a cop, and his desire to find the truth was evident in everything he did.

“No,” Maddy said through a bubble of laughter. She swatted him on the arm and tried not to smile while avoiding his gaze. “I don’t do any of that stuff.”

“How about coffee?” He offered his arm and jutted his head toward the corner. “You do that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Maddy said slowly. She flicked her gaze to his elbow and sighed dramatically. “You aren’t gonna quit until I agree to go, are you?”

“Nope.” His grin widened. “After all these years, you should know how persistent we McGuire boys are. Carolyn and Charles didn’t raise any quitters.”

“I can see that.”

“C’mon, and I won’t even try to pretend it’s a date,” Ronan prodded. He wobbled his elbow at her. “Don’t make me look bad in front of Bowser.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to be responsible for that,” she said dramatically. “Coffee it is.”

Maddy slipped her arm through his and shivered, the warmth of his body seeping through the layers of wool. Her gut reaction was to snuggle deeper against him and his rock-hard body, but she resisted, straightening her back. She couldn’t afford to dip beneath the surface and touch the raw emotions lingering there. That would get her nowhere, and she refused to be reduced to a weepy woman in the middle of the street. If Ronan noticed her subtle shift away from him, he didn’t comment on it.

They walked in silence, arm in arm, with the bloodhound trotting dutifully at Ronan’s side. They approached a Starbucks, but instead of crossing Fifty-Sixth Street, Ronan led her straight toward one of the street vendors.

“It’ll have to be coffee and a walk.” He jutted a thumb at his partner. “Starbucks isn’t big on having dogs in their establishments. Besides, our squad car is parked around the corner. How about coffee and a ride home?”

“That’s fine by me.” Maddy sucked in a deep breath of cold air. “Sitting in a crowded coffee shop with half the population on their laptops doesn’t sound appealing. But a walk sounds great.”

“It’s not a date. It’s coffee.” Maddy kept her tone light. “We’ve already been through this, McGuire. I’m not dating anyone, so don’t take it personally.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

They stopped at the truck, and she slipped her arm from his before quickly shoving her hands in the pockets of her coat. The cold air slithered under her clothes with surprising speed as the warmth of his body against hers became a memory. Ronan made quick work of ordering their coffee and, to her surprise, knew exactly how she took it.

“I know it’s not that fancy French stuff you like, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

“I pay attention.” Ronan slid a sidelong glance at her while he handed money to the guy in the truck. “We’ve been going for a run followed by coffee almost every week for months. What kind of a cop would I be if I couldn’t even remember how you take your coffee?”

“You love being right, don’t you?” She tilted her chin, daring him to deny it.

“Yes.” Ronan inched closer, cradling his cup in one hand and holding Bowser’s leash in the other. Confident and in total control as always. “But especially when it comes to you.”

She was about to ask him what exactly he meant by that, but Bowser started walking toward the corner. They strolled side by side, but she kept her eyes on the pedestrians ahead of them. If she looked at Ronan, he might get a peek at the conflicting swirl of emotions currently running through her.

“Okay, explain, please.” Maddy shivered again, but not from the cold. “Why do you want to be right when it comes to me?”

“Because you’re this big, bad businesswoman who acts like she’s got it all under control.”

“And I don’t?” She let out a short laugh. “Gee, thanks.”

“That’s not what I said, and definitely not what I meant.”

They stopped at the corner. Maddy was about to cross, but Ronan grabbed her arm, pulling her back just as a car blew through the light. If it hadn’t been for him, she would have gotten hit.

“Shit,” Maddy hissed. “Damn taxi drivers.”

She turned her eyes to his, and his grip on her tightened, almost imperceptibly. Maddy’s heart thundered in her chest. Was it from the near miss with the cab, or the feel of Ronan’s fingers curled around her bicep?

“I like surprising you,” he said quietly. Bowser made a snuffling sound and sat between them, but Ronan didn’t take his eyes off hers. “How am I doing so far?”

“Today?” Maddy asked quietly. “Well, to be honest, you shocked the hell out of me by showing up at the church. Why did you come?”

“Are you serious?” His brows furrowed. “I thought that would be obvious.”

“Not to me.” Maddy shook her head slowly and studied him, clutching the cardboard coffee cup with both hands.

“I figured it would be a tough day for you.” His mouth set in a tight line before he completed the thought she could practically see floating over his head. “Going to the funeral couldn’t have been easy, and I thought you could use a friend. I didn’t think you’d want to be alone.”

“I didn’t,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

The wind blew over them, sending her hair flying into her eyes. It was perfect timing, making the tears that welled up easy enough to explain away. Maddy tugged the strands of hair aside and nodded before turning her attention to the passing cars.

Sara Humphreys is the award-winning author of the Amoveo Legend series. The third book in the series, UNTAMED, won two PRISM awards–Dark Paranormal and Best of the Best. The first two novels from her Dead in the City series have been nominated for the National Readers Choice Award. Sara was also a professional actress. Some of her television credits include, A&E Biography, Guiding Light, Another World, As the World Turns and Rescue Me.

She loves writing hot heroes and heroines with moxie but above all, Sara adores a satisfying happily-ever-after. She lives in New York with Mr. H., their four amazing sons, and two adorable pups. When she’s not writing or hanging out with the men in her life, she can be found working out with Shaun T in her living room or chatting with readers on Facebook.

For a thousand years the Ilyium druids have hunted the Dracones without mercy.

Tierney and her friends were seven when the enemy swept through their village in a brutal massacre. Terrified, they fled the realm of Tartaria for Earth. Keeping their Dracone identity secret, they grow to adulthood in Washington state.

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As a kid, Jax only wanted to protect his brother. He ended up abused, broken and full of rage. Now, with his Awakening approaching, his powers become unpredictable. If he survives the change allowing him to shift into his dragon, he fears endangering the one he loves above all others; Tierney.

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Who is Tierney?
Tierney is an empath with a fierce disposition and a fiery temper. Having grown up with three males, she is bossy and used to getting her way…until Jax refuses to admit he is her mate…

~Excerpt~

Fate is a twisted bitch! Tierney leaned close to the tank of her shiny new Ducati and raced down the highway in rural Washington. The dark clouds hummed with a promise of snow, though at the moment only a faint mist fell, just enough to make the roads slick and perilous. Her mood volatile, she accelerated around the next curve, not caring about the danger as she tried to escape the fear threatening to overtake her.
Tierney’s mind was in turmoil. She had hoped the chill wind and fast ride would ease her stress, but it failed. She shuddered as nausea rolled through her at the memory of her recent vision. A vision of her dad, a Fallen Angel, surrounded by black robed figures. Their enemy, the Ilyium….
After she exited the highway to a tree-lined, rutted track, Tierney spotted two sets of fresh tire tracks and grinned. Looks like my hunch might pay off. This case may be closed before it even gets started…But her grin faded the further in she rode. A canopy of trees blocked the darkening sky and the eerie, dark forest made her dragon senses crawl with unease….

Damn. Where are you, Dad? It’s been seven days… He was supposed to be gone only two. Worried sick, she absently scanned the sparse trees and brush until a sudden eerie cold claimed her and everything blurred. Frowning, she braked hard, stopped and looked around.
Everything appeared darker than it had a second ago. She glanced around and scowled. A faint light circled the ground in front of her. What? How? She watched the light for a moment before raising her eyes to the even darker sky which now appeared different than it had just moments before.
Tierney blinked as everything turned wavy. Like one picture superimposed over another, the sky lightened. She frowned. Another set of lighter, fluffier clouds appeared along with the faint silhouette of a bird. The more she focused on the bird the clearer it became.
The large black ghost-like raven circled above her head. Tierney blinked again and the sky returned to normal—no sign of the bird. And she was no longer cold. Fabulous, now I’m seeing things. Still scowling, she gave the bike some gas and refocused on the dirt track.
A moment later Sami’s voice filled her head. ‘Tierney. Where the hell are you?’ Sami asked telepathically. He was one of her best friends and like a beloved brother to her.
‘Sorry, I’m on my way home. You hear anything from Dad or Jax?’ She looked both ways before turning back onto the highway.
‘Nothing on Dad, and Jax texted, he’s running late.’
Huh, no surprise. Wonder if he’ll even show? ‘Okay, thanks, Sami.’
Tierney was impatient to get home and swore when she ended up behind a slow old man driving a rusty pickup truck. A steady stream of oncoming cars filled the other lane, making her sit tight. When the last car went by, she sucked in a breath, exhaled and gunned the Ducati. She blew past the truck and kept going while acid churned in her gut as she worried over her dad, Sami, and his brother, Jax…
She shoved thoughts of her dad away as her earlier unease, a sense of being spied upon, grew stronger. A quick glance in her side mirror showed a large black Escalade hot on her tail. Jerk! Attention back on the road, she gunned the bike and shot forward.
The black behemoth caught up, making her growl in anger. What’s this creep’s problem? She thought, when a menacing voice drifted through her head. ‘Nice ass.’
A chill shot through her. ‘Who are you?’ She asked, even though her instincts screamed to get away. She was too stubborn to listen.
‘Someone who’s been waiting a long time for you.’

For a thousand years the Ilyium druids have hunted the Dracones without mercy.

Tierney and her friends were seven when the enemy swept through their village in a brutal massacre. Terrified, they fled the realm of Tartaria for Earth. Keeping their Dracone identity secret, they grow to adulthood in Washington state.

But no matter how far they run from the nightmares, escape is impossible. Which is crystal clear every time Tierney gazes into the tormented eyes of the man she loves.

As a kid, Jax only wanted to protect his brother. He ended up abused, broken and full of rage. Now, with his Awakening approaching, his powers become unpredictable. If he survives the change allowing him to shift into his dragon, he fears endangering the one he loves above all others; Tierney.

Their past catches up when Tierney has a vision of the Ilyium beheading her father. Ancient instincts are triggered as Tierney and Jax battle to overcome their legacy, learn to trust in themselves and each other in order to save her father and avoid the Ilyium’s sinister plans.

Dracones Awakening is the first book in the Dracones series for readers age 17+.

If you are a fan of dark, steamy, paranormal romance, you will love Tierney and Jax’s story. Buy this book today to be swept up into the magical world of dragons, magic and angst ridden sensual heat.

Who is Jaxsaron?
Jax is a male battling the demons of his past. With growing powers and a dark rage he can’t control, he’d rather die than endanger the few he loves.

~Excerpt~

The six men’s fear was palpable as inky darkness seeped from Jax like a furious entity bent on vengeance… Their attempt to kidnap a young teen had been thwarted… Without realizing Jax was a Dracones, they did recognize him as a Supe, and grinning, they attacked…. one guy managed to get past Jax and put his knife to the kids throat.
Hell no, he didn’t just do that! As the skinny teen began to shake, and his eyes widened in fear, Jax’s anger spiked. The dark rage that lurked inside him erupted, causing a cloying black cloud to seep from within him and fill the alley. Fear and piss filled the air as the screams from six throats were cut off. Blood sprayed everywhere and Jax was sucked into a vortex of horror-filled memories.
Screams of terror from long ago drifted on the wind while a fiery inferno tore mercilessly through their village. Cold, menacing death grasped anyone left alive with uncaring hands, leaving destruction in its wake. Jax tried to shake the memories free, but other memories invaded. Evil laughter haunted him as a long ago agony took over, leaving him bloody, chained and helpless. Filled with pain and shame, he struggled to get free. Then the hated voice repeatedly called him a piece of shit, telling him how weak, dirty, pathetic he was. How he’d never be any good and no one would ever love him.
Jax gripped his head, chest heaving, and pushed the ghosts of his past away. The hilts of both knives pressed into his skull as he resisted the urge to vomit. He leaned against the filthy brick wall in the dingy alleyway and fought the darkness threatening to consume him. Stop! With a growl of anger, he thumped his head back against the bricks, the pain helping ease the darkness from his mind.
The black fog dissolved, leaving the coppery scent of blood, along with an odor of weak magic, making him grimace. Chest heaving, he straightened up and turned in a circle, looking at the bodies. Damnit! I hate when this shit happens…

~Meet Sheri-Lynn Marean~
Sheri-Lynn Marean, Author of Dracones Awakening, the first book in the Dracones series, resides in western Canada with her husband, three kids, one dog, one cat, and two fish. Sheri did not grow up thinking she would one day be an author. Instead, she grew up riding and working with racehorses, drawing and selling her animal artwork, and of course reading.

Sheri fell in love with reading at age twelve when she read The Black Stallion series by Walter Farley. She has not stopped reading. With a wide variety of reading interests, Sheri’s passion presently is the paranormal romance genre.

One day, after reading an unsatisfying book, she decided she would write her own book, with her own characters, doing what she wanted them to do. She began to type and the characters came to life in her head. She has never looked back.

From the womb, she was owned. Shula Kelley was signed away before her first breath, just like everyone else in secessionist Texas. She was called beautiful like it meant something important. Like it would get her a kind husband, or one less cruel. She hoped Jared Agnesson was kind.

And the devil you know is still the devil.

As punishment for his son’s rebellion, the patriarch of the Agnesson clan claimed Shula for his own. And she saw only one way out. Shula had a plan, but she didn’t realize it would require a savior.

Suffer not the sins of the father.

First acts of rebellion open doors that are best left closed. Until Jared walked through it. Her savior. But how can she truly love when she only knows obedience?

“I‒” She removed her hand from her knickers.

“Don’t do that, my love. Pretend I’m not here if you must, but I’m going to watch you, and you will continue.” His need was just at the surface, but he found he wanted to hold on to it, just a bit, no matter how unsettling it was to him. He was quite spoiled by his bride, and she tended to his every desire, whether she realized it or not.

But this was different. This was unexplored territory. He hadn’t realized desire could be on a spectrum and that revelation made him want to feel everything all at once. Do everything all at once. The thought of untapped desire was distressing. Intoxicating.

Oh God. He wanted to watch her? She couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She arranged her night dress and sat up, deeply ashamed, but found herself quickly on her back with her husband over her, palm pressing the center of her chest. “No, Shula. I said you will continue.” He barely recognized his voice. He grabbed her right hand and pressed it to her damp panties. His zipper rubbed against the back of her hand, and she could feel he was hard.

He was going to make her. He’d never made her do anything she hadn’t wanted before, so why was he making her now? To punish her? Surely not. “I don’t think I can, Jared. I don’t want to displease you, but I’m terribly embarrassed, and I don’t want you to think‒” That you’re not enough, she thought miserably to herself.

“Think what, Shula? Tell me.” Her panties were moved to the side and his thumb a centimeter from her clitoris. It was maddeningly still. His mouth spoke into hers after a thorough kiss. “Tell me, and I might help you out.”

Shula was relieved. Not for the help, but because she hadn’t wanted him angry. “I’ve just done this since I was young, and I don’t know. I just enjoy it.”

“Well, then. Let me make it better for you.”

“You do‒Oh!” His face was between her legs, lapping fully at her labia. “Now. I want to watch very closely.” He circled her clitoris with his tongue before moving back out. “Do it.”

And she did. Her fingers moved rapidly, while his tongue and mouth tasted and explored everything else. His tongue would work its way in beside her fingers and she would buck against his face. He didn’t bother dissuading her.

He felt slight tremors against his face and decided he wanted to draw this out a bit more. “Stop.”

It took her a few seconds to comprehend it, but she did. She removed her hand and clutched it to her chest. She didn’t know what she was doing wrong. She was afraid she would cry if she spoke.

Jared saw. He saw how he scared her, and it was intolerable. “Shula, love. Slow down. That’s all.” He kissed the skin of her thigh closest to his mouth. “Slow, slow, slow,” he begged. He kissed her fingers once they found their way back.

He watched her. He saw how her body adapted to a slower pace. He saw how she would quicken, then slow again as she was getting closer.

He could watch this for hours.

Arden Aoide lives in San Antonio, Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and three cats. Turn ons include men who cry during sex, long walks on the beach, and talking about herself in the third person. Turn offs include mean people and trying to figure out how to write an interesting author bio.

She doesn’t write about the typical men you normally read about in erotic romance novels. She likes her men brainy and just this side of manic.

She’s an introvert, she loves coffee, Internet, British television, and pot stickers. And pie. She loves pie.

From the womb, she was owned. Shula Kelley was signed away before her first breath, just like everyone else in secessionist Texas. She was called beautiful like it meant something important. Like it would get her a kind husband, or one less cruel. She hoped Jared Agnesson was kind.

And the devil you know is still the devil.

As punishment for his son’s rebellion, the patriarch of the Agnesson clan claimed Shula for his own. And she saw only one way out. Shula had a plan, but she didn’t realize it would require a savior.

Suffer not the sins of the father.

First acts of rebellion open doors that are best left closed. Until Jared walked through it. Her savior. But how can she truly love when she only knows obedience?

He had been told long before he was to take a bride that it was important–imperative–to assert his place on top of her, between spread thighs, claiming relentlessly that which belonged to him. Her opinion forever insignificant.

He had never been told that a thirst so indelible could suffocate every blessed second. That an unsated hunger would leave him unsettled and a little terrified.

That he would need those same thighs to spread for want of him.

It had been several months, but the gift of her was still overwhelming.

“Did your mother ever call you Shulamith,” Jared asked innocently. He had been watching her for a short time as she methodically and efficiently chopped the onions, carrots, and potatoes for their stew. She was more adept with the large knife than even he was. He wasn’t quite sure why kitchen work made such a difference. Maybe it didn’t, and Shula was just very good with her hands.

He didn’t know why he enjoyed watching it.

She gasped as the knife slipped from her grasp and she nicked the tip of her fingertip holding down an onion. He was at her side grasping her hand with muttered apologies. He had meant to shock her with his new found knowledge, but he hadn’t meant to hurt her. She pressed her lips together, because she didn’t want to complain.

She gasped again when he pressed her finger in his mouth. “I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered.

“How did you find out?” She was afraid she might cry. She hated being named for a harem girl. She liked to believe that her mother did it to make a point.

“I didn’t really. Your name. Shula. I’ve never heard it. I looked through some genealogy information online and no one on either your mother or your father’s side shared that name. But, everyone had sacred names. First and middle. I saw a smudge by yours.”

“Father. He was ashamed. He tried to change it. But, it was too long–”

“Shh. Not now. Later.” His hands moved to both hips. He gripped tightly, and lifted her easily onto the counter. She sucked in a breath and held onto him tightly. The light in the room was waning, but it was the brightest light he’d ever been so close to her in.

He loved it when she was supplicant under him, trying to hide, trying not to spread her legs wider. He loved that by the end, she’s panting in his mouth, with her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. She was his completely, and he never had to ask. She just gave.

He found himself wanting her to want him. Was it fair for him to ask for that when she hadn’t a choice previously? He frowned and stepped back a few inches.

She dropped her hands from his shoulders. “Have I done something to…displease you?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. It took a few moments to speak. “You are my wife.”

She nodded, unsure of his point.

“We didn’t get to choose, but I was happy at the wedding, unexpected though it was.” He stepped in close to her again, and her legs spread for him. He pressed both fists on either side of her hips. “You were my punishment, and I think it’s the grandest cosmic joke ever.”

Arden Aoide lives in San Antonio, Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and three cats. Turn ons include men who cry during sex, long walks on the beach, and talking about herself in the third person. Turn offs include mean people and trying to figure out how to write an interesting author bio.

She doesn’t write about the typical men you normally read about in erotic romance novels. She likes her men brainy and just this side of manic.

She’s an introvert, she loves coffee, Internet, British television, and pot stickers. And pie. She loves pie.

Sade and Mercy’s journey takes a dark turn in No Mercy A Darker Continuation.

Some nightmares last only minutes. Sometimes those minutes can last a lifetime.

Dark lusts and self-loathing become a merciless dance Sade can’t escape. Surviving one night of horror leads him to a ledge he’s never been, where terror mixes with his sadism and masochism for a whole new monster with No Mercy.

Excerpt

Sade climbed through the window and dropped to the ground right as thunder rumbled louder. The smell of rain thickened the air as Sade grabbed Mercy’s hand and raced to the front of the house.

They made it to the vehicle and climbed in. Oh fuck, no keys. Ten feet in front of them sat a black antique hearse. “Lock your fucking door,” Sade ordered, searching beneath the seat for a weapon.

“Oh my God, he’s coming, he’s coming!” Mercy shrilled.

Sade eyed the sad clown face hurrying toward the truck as he opened the glove box. Mercy screamed as the maniac banged on the driver window.

“Son!” he bellowed, yanking off his mask and glaring at Sade. The blue eyes were nearly brilliant in the darkness. “How could you?” Agonizing betrayal twisted his face before he turned and paced next to the truck, holding his head.

Sade jumped at feeling something buzz under his ass. His fucking phone!

“I trusted you, son,” Abraham muttered.

“Look for a weapon, anything!” Sade wrestled the phone out of his pocket.

“I don’t understand…” Abraham looked up and searched the sky. “I thought you said I was getting a disciple? Have I not earned that?”

Abraham stalked back to the truck and stopped in front aiming the shotgun at them. Sade shoved Mercy on the seat, covering her. A jolting boom rocked the fucking truck when he fired. “Fuck!” Sade gasped, finally glancing up to find Abraham stalking to the rear of the vehicle. Sade ducked as the back glass exploded. He put the phone to his mouth and screamed, “623 Fallen Lane!” He fought to cover more of Mercy. “Can you fucking hear me!?”

Mercy screamed and covered her head as her window shattered next. Sade looked at the phone. God,

fuck no! Dead!

Two more shots took out the windshield. Then Sade’s window blasted into the vehicle, pieces hitting them.

“Goddamn!” Abraham muttered.

Sade shot his head up to see the animal storming back to his car. Sade opened his door and dragged Mercy out. “Don’t look back!” he gasped, running with her down the driveway. “To the highway!”

The sound of a vehicle door slammed and a low engine growled. Light beams soon bounced behind them with the demonic rumble of the engine screaming toward them.

They wouldn’t make it, they wouldn’t fucking make it. Sade remembered the boathouse. “This way!” He shot into the woods and headed in a diagonal direction back, making sure Mercy stayed on his heels. There had to be something there he could kill him with. He’d use his bare hands as a last option. Fucking that up and risking Mercy wasn’t a gamble he could take.

Hello, Lucian here. I’m a husband, author, and Christian who loves writing tales—paranormal erotic romance, contemporary erotic romance, fantasy romance and dark erotica– about men who honor, cherish, and protect the women they love. Also stories that are real enough to form a sort of how-to bridge for the readers, teaching them “how to” add heat and passion to their marriages and relationships; teach them how to build life-long commitments–like I have with my own beautiful wife–and build strong families; all of which serve as a healthy foundation in society.

I think there are many men like myself, and I hope my writing will be a map for them. A map for women as well, to teach them how to bring out the strength that exists within the men they call boyfriend or husband. Teach them how to dance out their fairytale romance in a world that isn’t kind to the happily ever afters we all hope to achieve.

You know, when I was younger, I submitted to my inner reckless and tireless desires, but when I gave myself to God and conformed my will to His, the transformation made me into what I am today. A man that believes and endorses Forever Love. Something we could stand a lot more of in our times, don’t you think?

.99 cent Book Series Sale!

The Midnight Society Series!

by: Author Logan Patricks

Book Description

Whoever said money couldn’t buy happiness has never starved a day in their lives.

My name is Aria Valencia, a third year classical music student at the university, and I was down to my last dollar. Some nights, I seriously considered working at the rippers just to make ends meet, but the thought of my dad’s spirit–God rest his soul–scowling at me while I danced up on some drooling degenerate was enough to turn me off the idea completely.

And then one night, chance came knocking on my door under the guise of the Midnight Society, a secret cabal comprised of the most wealthy and influential souls this side of the Universe. Their leader was a man named Shadow, who was equally enigmatic as he was gorgeous and, for some mystifying reason, had his dark brooding eyes focused on me.

Seduced by the promises of fame and fortune in exchange for a seemingly innocent request, I soon found myself drawn into a provocative world filled with both vast riches and unending lies and it didn’t take long for me to realize what being a part of the Midnight Society actually entailed: shiny things, sensual romance, and dead bodies.

Falling in love with Shadow came with a terrible price, one that I wasn’t willing to pay. There’s a dark side to every love story, and this one was mine.

Amazon Buy Link:

On sale @ 80% off: From $4.99 to $0.99

Book Two: Penumbra

Book Description

In one night, I lost everything: my hopes and dreams, my best friend, and Shadow’s heart. He told me he loved me, but it was just a lie.

The Midnight Society has fallen, reduced to ashes by a monster; someone whom we all once trusted. The betrayal has shattered our lives forever and Shadow, Lord of the Midnight Society, finds himself at a crossroad.

One road leads him further down the path of vengeance, filled with unending violence and dead bodies. The other road leads to me. However, our path to happiness is paved with broken glass and razorblades, and at some point, one of us is going to fall.

Welcome to the world of the Midnight Society.

Amazon Buy Link:

On sale @ 80% off: From $4.99 to $0.99

As well Book 3 of the Midnight Society Series will go on sale April 23rd.

Book 3 – Revenant

Book Description

With power comes the promise of blood. With friendships comes the promise of betrayal. With love comes the promise of tragedy.

The Midnight Society keeps no promises.

Shadow, the Lord of the Midnight Society–a once powerful and world-ruling organization–is a man with many burdens.

He’s losing a war with the Revenants, whose psychotic leader murdered his parents and was someone he once trusted. His best friend, Lincoln Richards–whose quick wit, charms, and loyalty are outweighed only by his sexual appetite–is a prisoner of the Revenants, and possibly dead. Meanwhile, the whispers of a traitor within his organization has Shadow constantly looking over his shoulder.

Perhaps the only thing going right for him is his mended relationship with Aria Valencia, a beautiful pianist with humble beginnings. Little does he know, she’s hiding a dark secret from him, one that threatens to destroy everything they’ve built together.

In Shadow’s heart, there’s one single thing that can make everything right again: revenge. However, the cost for revenge is high, one that’s paid for with the lives of both his enemies and loved ones.

The war between the Midnight Society and the Revenants comes to a head in this penultimate chapter of the best selling Romance Mystery series, the Midnight Society.

Lucy is sick of the dating scene and especially sick of what she can never have; The Kerrigan boys, specifically Will and Heath.

After a run-in with Heathcliff Kerrigan, that proves everything she already knew about him, she agrees to partake in a new dating experiment. More like a marriage experiment.

Her match will be handpicked specifically for her; her likes, desires, needs, and possibly, her worst nightmare. And the scariest part is that she won’t meet him or know his name until they meet at the altar.

Agreeing, she waits for the call that will change her life.

Will Lucy follow through and marry a total stranger?
Or does Heath have other plans in mind for her happily ever after?

Trust is a 15k word serial with a bit of humor, scorching steam, and surprises that await you at the altar.

As a sadomasochist, Sade just wants to get and give pain in manageable and somewhat legal doses.

All Mercy wants is to walk in her father’s footstep–a man who sacrificed everything to save her from a life of abuse and suffering. When Mercy finds an envelope on her doorstep leading her to

Sade, the result is a collision of pain and mercy. For Sade, Mercy’s kindness is dessert for his sadism, and her strength has his masochism hot and begging. Exploiting both for his own pleasure is his plan until he realizes that Mercy’s got her own game. And playing it requires something he’s never had.

“The alley, Mercy.”

“Already told you, Sade.”

“Are you being difficult because you want me to see you naked and wide open? You want me to make you talk? Make you scream?”

He waited in the silence, watching her breaths slow. “I was running from a man. And ended up there. And saved your life! Oh, wait. No, I guess I didn’t, I guess I ruined a business deal you had with death?”

He sighed.

“I am telling you,” she said emphatic.

He leaned forward and grabbed the front of her panties and cut them along both sides and tossed them to the floor. “And I told you not to answer me with the same shit. I don’t get it Mercy. Why not just tell me how you know me and why you were there that night?”

“I did and you won’t believe me!”

“One more time. Next I help you open up a little more.”

“Look! I panicked. I ran. I saw you, I saved you, why am I not getting a reward or something? For good intentions at least!”

He stared at her incredulous. “Jesus,” he muttered into the air above as he got up and fetched the rubber restraints.

“I’m telling you the truth!”

“If that’s the truth, I feel so fucking sorry for you. It’s just too unbelievable.” He cut the tie on her ankle, and her legs suddenly clamped around his neck and slammed his face onto the bed-table in a tight choke hold.

“Ffffuck,” he growled, reaching with his left hand and pressing her chest. Her pussy almost in tongue touching distance, he grunted in pain and excitement as she choked him harder with solid muscle, screaming with her effort. Her strength was exhilarating. Sade’s struggled for purchase with his right hand, anything that would give him leverage. But if he made the wrong move, that pressure on his neck would become lethal. He knew that move she was applying all too well.

Sade slid his left hand down her stomach and onto her pussy. She squeezed his neck harder and he strained with a roar before shoving his thumb inside her. She gasped and her pussy gripped him while he worked his other hand under her leg, seeking out her sciatic nerve. She struggled and squirmed to maintain her hold, the movement serving as anice finger job for her and judging by the sounds she made, she didn’t get those very often. Sade finally found his target and dug hard. She screamed and he thrust his thumb deeper inside her, gaining that give in her leg lock.

He finally broke free and scrambled onto the bed, pressing his knees into her open thighs.

“Mercy, Mercy,” he whispered, the smell of her sex everywhere now. She’d gone and done it. Pushed too many wrong buttons. His sadism roared through his blood, begging to take all control. She was back to looking away from him, winded. “I can only assume you wanted that. I do love the fuck out of giving pain and receiving, but only the consenting kind. And that… baby… was very close to begging.”

Hello, Lucian here. I’m a husband, author, and Christian who loves writing tales—paranormal erotic romance, contemporary erotic romance, fantasy romance and dark erotica– about men who honor, cherish, and protect the women they love. Also stories that are real enough to form a sort of how-to bridge for the readers, teaching them “how to” add heat and passion to their marriages and relationships; teach them how to build life-long commitments–like I have with my own beautiful wife–and build strong families; all of which serve as a healthy foundation in society.

I think there are many men like myself, and I hope my writing will be a map for them. A map for women as well, to teach them how to bring out the strength that exists within the men they call boyfriend or husband. Teach them how to dance out their fairytale romance in a world that isn’t kind to the happily ever afters we all hope to achieve.

You know, when I was younger, I submitted to my inner reckless and tireless desires, but when I gave myself to God and conformed my will to His, the transformation made me into what I am today. A man that believes and endorses Forever Love. Something we could stand a lot more of in our times, don’t you think?

Lucian has written in several genres over the past year, so there is something for everyone. You can find all his work including; the Dom Wars Series, White Knight Dom Academy Series, Ruin Series and the Arks of Octava Series on his Amazon Author Page.

4 out of 5 read-ologists recommend this WordPress.com site. ups and downs of writer's insanity and day to day life. I will write whatever makes the voices happy, for a writer that ignores her inner voices is merely a mental breakdown waiting to happen. Keeping the voices happy and creating new worlds for them to play in is my main goal.